


Maybe I Know

by Samirant



Series: nothing stronger than a heart [3]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Companion Piece, F/M, Freely Given Ch 7, Grief/Mourning, real cat fiction, those dornish sneaks, tiger the lion, unconscionable abuse of italics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-09
Updated: 2020-03-09
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:33:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23074021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Samirant/pseuds/Samirant
Summary: Brienne is certain that she'll have to muddle through Jaime's latest bit of recklessness on her own.Turns out she's wrong about that.
Relationships: Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth
Series: nothing stronger than a heart [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1607014
Comments: 71
Kudos: 130





	Maybe I Know

**Author's Note:**

> Companion piece to Freely Given chapter 7 - I fear this won't make a ton of sense if you're not caught up on that story. But, hey, who am I to stop you from reading fic? Carry on, if you'd like. :)
> 
> As always, because it is always true, my <3 to the best ladies ever: [Slips](https://slipsthrufingers.tumblr.com/), [Nire](https://nire-the-mithridatist.tumblr.com/) and [Luthien](https://luthienebonyx.tumblr.com/)

_Renly’s neighbor was gorgeous._

_It was something Brienne couldn’t help but think every time she saw him. It was simply factual to recognize that a man blessed with hair that golden, eyes that green, and a profile that could likely cut glass, was beautiful._

_He also had an adorable dog, its obvious disobedience notwithstanding._

_Still. He was gorgeous._

_But then he had to go and open his mouth._

_“Does Loras know he’s been replaced by a new and improved model?”_

_Brienne’s face burned as she bumbled forward and failed to catch Renly when he fell through his open doorway. Part of her said it would serve him right, getting as drunk as he had in the hotel bar, celebrating the confirmation of her pregnancy. At least with time and effort came Renly’s reduced tolerance and what used to take a dozen drinks now only required three or four before he was completely soused; she’d worried for too long over how much he drank before and at least one happy byproduct of their attempts to become fathers was Renly’s decision to cut down._

_All the same: Renly. Floor. Brienne sighed._

_She wished Loras was there. They’d become quite adept in the last year of school they’d all shared together, tag teaming Renly at his very worst. Loras, however, was seeing Margaery home, after she’d joined them for a single drink. Margaery had said all the right words, but she’d kissed both of Brienne’s cheeks with a distant look in her eyes and then made her excuses, polite and empty in equal measures. Brienne wished Loras hadn’t harassed her into joining them; it didn’t seem to have helped anything at all._

_Which is what left her here, standing between the two men, one of which she used to think was the most beautiful she’d ever seen until the second came along. It was too bad he ruined it by speaking._

_For all of Renly’s disdain for his neighbor, he’d been far too thrilled by their good fortune to resist shouting out their news right before pitching downward. Beautiful Arrogant Asshole Neighbor (™Loras) - “_ No, just Arrogant Asshole Neighbor”, Renly would always protest _\- sent Brienne a smug grin and added, “I don’t know how much he’s had to drink, but I’d be worried that he’s lost his grasp on basic biology,” as if he didn’t know that Renly handled the science division for Baratheon Chemical._

_He might not know._

_But it was the_ principle _of the thing._

_Brienne tried to brush off his comments, choosing instead to gather Renly up so that his upper body draped over her shoulder - gods, it too clearly brought to mind the almost endless number of times she’d scooped him up off the floor of some godsforsaken frat house - and maneuvered him so that she could get a hold of the door handle._

_Her last glance back was an image that stuck with her for weeks and weeks, like an irritating pebble in her shoe, until something else took the entirety of her attention: Jaime Lannister standing there with a rambunctious, fluffy dog twining its leash around his legs, looking back at her with an expression that she had no idea how to decipher._

_There was only one thing she could think to do. Brienne shut the door in his face._

__

###### 

The darkness of her bedroom was broken by the muted blue light from her phone screen when she picked it up. Brienne blinked rapidly to bear looking at it straight on, swiping up and prodding at the screen almost mechanically as she brought up the message app.

_Heading to bed. I know you said you’d call but maybe just tex_

No. She’d already tried and discarded that instead of sending it. Brienne did so again.

_Hope your plane got in safely_

That made the air catch in her throat, it brought to mind another flight that hadn’t reached its intended destination. Delete. Delete delete **delete**. 

_Why did you say that? Why would you say that? My life was starting to feel like it actually made a little sense again and then you said that. Did you mean it? You looked like you meant it. But it doesn’t make any sense. It makes no sense. WHAT? You love me? You LOVE me?_

Brienne stared at what she’d written. If she’d done her math right - and who was she kidding, she knew she had - Jaime was somewhere over the Sea of Dorne, at least an hour away from landing and from when he’d likely call, as he promised. Right before he said he loved her. 

There was a little comfort in the fact that he couldn’t see how she agonized over the right words or witness how her finger hovered over the power button, tempted to shut the whole thing off so she wouldn’t have to deal with it until morning. Only her conviction of the absolute cowardice of such an action kept Brienne from doing it. So instead she typed out messages, deleting them each in turn, relieved that Jaime couldn’t see the flurry of unsent message bubbles on the other end.

Then she remembered the in cabin wi-fi.

Horrified, Brienne gingerly placed the tip of her finger to the delete button ( **delete delete delete __** _oh good gods_ **delete** ), nearly breaking into a cold sweat as she realized how close it was to _send_ and shoved her phone aside when the incriminating texts finally disappeared from view. 

“Will you quit it?” she asked the fully darkened room. It was a toss up as to who she was speaking to: Salmon settling down on the pillow somewhere in the vicinity of her head, Tiger alongside her ankles, or the kid, flailing like mad within her. 

It was with entirely too much dismay that she realized that she was, to a point, surrounded by boys.

Brienne flopped onto her side, hoping the change in position would relieve the pressure on her lower back and perhaps settle the kid down. Salmon merely adjusted himself, kneading his front paws into the back of her head, and Tiger let out a small whuffle as he pressed his cold nose into the sole of her foot.

She tried, fruitlessly, for sleep. If she fell asleep then maybe she wouldn’t hear the phone and if she didn’t hear the phone then she wouldn’t have to answer and if she didn’t answer then she wouldn’t hear Jaime’s voice on the other side, saying mind-bending words that left her shellshocked for hours. But if she fell asleep, then she wouldn’t know for sure that the plane had landed as it should have. If she fell asleep-

The phone rang.

Brienne scrambled for it, digging the phone out from where she’d shoved it under the other pillow. The animals (and yes, she included the kid in this, and she would continue to do so if he _didn’t stop kicking_ ) all protested her rapid movement and the sudden, bright light. It wasn’t even that she knew what to say, but she couldn’t deny that her stomach had flipped at the sound and-

It was Margaery. 

Collapsing back onto the pillow, Brienne answered, “Hello?”

“I know it’s late, sorry.” Margaery’s tone was hesitant and so unlike her. The old her, at least. It fit the new her far too well. “I guess I wasn’t used to being home yet-”

“We made a deal,” Brienne reminded her. She couldn’t help the tiny smile that came to her face. So far she’d gotten the lowdown on Loras’ cringe-inducing attempts to join the high school glee club, Renly’s horrible first impression on Mance and Olenna’s grade-A mocking of the couple the morning after their first night together in the Tyrell mansion. “What have you got for me?”

“Actually” - Margaery sniffed loudly and Brienne wondered, her stomach now plummeting, how long the other woman had waited to call - “do you have something? Anything?”

“I, uh, yeah.” Brienne cleared her throat and scoured her brain, relieved when she found something, even if it made her sigh. “Loras made me get my first pedicure.”

Margaery let out a light giggle.

“He was very offended that it took me over twenty years to practice basic self-respect, his words, though I had to point out that it didn’t make much sense for me to get one until I was older, at least. And I could hardly base my self-respect on the fact of whether my toenails were glittery or not.”

“I’m sure he was hardly persuaded by that.”

“He was not,” Brienne acknowledged. “It was embarrassing at first, the women kept speaking Dothraki, I knew that they must be saying something about the terrible state of my feet, but Loras made them bring out drinks and distracted me until they were done and it was… it was fun. I think it’s the first time we did something together without Renly.”

She heard Margaery take in a large breath and let it out slowly. “That sounds _just_ like him.”

“It was a really nice day and probably what made us start being friends without Renly there to force us to get along.”

“He really was quite jealous of you back then, of the way you two were so close.”

Brienne knew that Margaery didn’t say it to cause pain, but she still took a few seconds to collect herself enough to reply, “We got there eventually. Took a lot of pedicures, though.”

Margaery’s giggles, though louder, were interrupted by a _beep_.

Bringing her phone out in front of her face, Brienne saw Jaime’s name written across the screen, along with the choice to accept or decline. She bit her lower lip and pressed her hand to the base of her throat, rubbing along her collarbones as the phone gave another beep and she heard Margaery’s distant voice calling out her name.

“Yeah, um, hold on just a sec,” Brienne said a little louder and pressed _accept_ before she could change her mind. 

“Hi.”

There was a blank space of air and she wondered if Jaime had hung up, but then he said, “Hey.”

“You-you made it in safely,” Brienne said when he didn’t add anything else. 

“I did, we’re getting off the plane right now.”

She tried to say _good_ , but it got caught somewhere in the middle of her throat. Her mouth had gone dry, but her eyes had welled up from out of nowhere. Where was the godsdamn balance in her life anymore?

“I won’t keep you up,” Jaime was saying. What he made of her silence was anyone’s guess. “But I promised I’d call, so…”

Brienne fought around her stumbling tongue to reply, “Thank you. For calling. It… it’s a relief, to know everything is all right.”

“Yeah, of course,” Jaime said in his strangely gentle way. The man who had mocked her that night, months ago, was so completely at odds with the one she knew now. She wondered, all at once, if he had been trying to be funny. Wouldn’t that be just like him, to say something without thinking-

“Um, Margaery is on the other line, I should go,” Brienne said quickly.

“Oh. Oh, yeah, I guess I didn’t wake you then.”

“No, she, I think she’s having a tough night.”

Jaime’s silence was telling, but he didn’t remark on what he’d said so much earlier, instead informing her, “I’ve already gotten some news from the Mart- the companies I’m mediating for, it looks like things are going to be pretty involved over here. I may be pretty busy.”

Brienne couldn’t decide who he was trying to give an out, her or himself. All she could say was, “Sounds like you need to focus on that, then.”

“Yeah.”

“We can talk later, it’s fine.” 

As she said it, Brienne was thinking of daylight hours, but Jaime evidently mistook it entirely and replied, “I’ll text when I can, I guess.”

Part of her wanted to protest, a perplexing dip in her chest telling her that the days ahead would be unbearably dull without Jaime puttering in and out of her apartment, playing with Tiger, draping Salmon over his shoulders like a fur stole and making a mess in her kitchen. It struck her from nowhere, the longing to not just hear his voice in her ear, but to see him. 

She could barely make sense of the immense sadness that washed over her as she considered it, so she could only utter, “Okay.”

“Okay,” Jaime replied. Brienne suspected that he didn’t mean to broadcast his disappointment, but she heard it. She wanted to take it all back but then he was adding, “I’ll let you go, Margaery’s probably still waiting.”

“I think she is,” Brienne admitted. Jaime’s tone had become slightly clipped, not angry, but far more deliberate than he usually sounded. 

“I’ve got stuff I need to get started on anyway.” 

“Of course.”

“I’ll let you know when I’m heading back.”

Would it be worse when he did? Brienne hoped it wouldn’t be, but there was no telling. Even so, she said, “Good, let me know.”

“I will.” Another few beats of agonizing silence. “Get some rest, Brienne.”

“You too, Jaime.”

He hung up before she did, and Brienne stared out into the darkness of her bedroom, only partly relieved that the conversation was over. Greater was the urge to call him back and demand answers to the questions that had been swirling through her mind since he’d stood at her doorway and said things she had never, ever thought would come out anyone’s mouth, let alone his. 

“Brienne?”

She jolted back against the pillows, gasping before she recognized Margaery’s voice. Fumbling for a second, Brienne could barely get out, “Marg-Margaery, hi, sorry about that.”

“Everything all right?”

Where to even start. “I’m fine, everything’s fine,” Brienne replied. “I didn’t mean to be gone so long, but Jaime promised he’d call when he got to Dorne.”

“Dorne? What the hells is he doing there?”

“A business emergency thing, long story.” Brienne tried to sound dismissive, but she couldn’t help the image that came to mind without her consent, that of Jaime being met by a faceless person, being kissed hello after joining them in the car at the airport. It made her skin feel too tight and her heart started to jackhammer in her chest. The kid matched the staccato rhythm against her bladder and Brienne groaned. “I’ve got to pee, hold on.”

When she was back, she felt calmer, having made a concentrated effort to not think of _anyone_ while using the toilet. Picking the phone back up, she told Margaery, “I’m going to try and get some sleep.”

“Sorry to keep yo-”

“No, it’s not your fault, I already had a lot on my mind,” Brienne interrupted. 

“Anything I can help with?”

Could she? It had not passed her notice that Jaime and Margaery hadn’t especially liked each other even two weeks ago. The first time Margaery called her after everything happened, she’d made some choice comments about what a dick he’d been at the restaurant a few days before, though Brienne had missed that entirely at the time, she’d been so distracted by Stannis’ call. 

So much - _so much_ \- had changed since then and they seemed to have warmed toward one another, but that could have been explained away as pursuit of a common goal. The goal being herself and her happiness, bizarre as that was. But that didn’t mean any particular regard had formed between the two and once things had settled for her, what did they have to maintain the peace? Brienne had never been the glue between people, that was Renly, then Renly and Loras, bringing together individuals of all walks of life, casually mixing different friend groups and somehow making it all run smoothly. Without them, Brienne had lost track of so many people, familiar faces that were casual connections at best. Without them-

Her breath hitched, completely beyond her control. 

“Brienne, hey, _hey,_ what’s wrong? Why-” Margaery sounded so very worried and Brienne fought and failed to speak. “Brienne, talk to me, what’s wrong?”

She covered her mouth with her hand, trying to hide the sob that escaped her. It was exhausting, the unpredictable pangs of grief that snuck into her days and nights, striking her and gutting her from one moment to the next. But it was more than that this time. It was Jaime’s declaration and how she’d been so overwhelmed and couldn’t even think until long after he’d gone, only to realize by that time that someone else she cared for was being carried through the skies and the last time…

It was a relief to know that he was safe and now she could let go of the fear she’d been shoving down since she’d recognized the uncontainable danger, only to be faced with the fact that things had irrevocably changed and she _didn’t know what to do_. Why couldn’t things be normal, safe, _uncomplicated_ , for just a little while?

Margaery sounded even more panicked. “Brienne, _please_ , you’re scaring me.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Brienne forced out. “It’s been- it’s been a really difficult night, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, this is what… I meant it when I said I want to be there for you. Do you want me to come over?”

It was second nature to decline, to say _no, it’s okay_ , but it wasn’t. It wasn’t at all. She went against a lifetime of learned self-sufficiency to say, “Yes. Yes, could you?”

“I’m on my way.”

###### 

She’d exhausted herself into a fitful doze by the time Margaery arrived, enough that Brienne let her in only for them both to collapse on her bed, Margaery smoothing down her hair as she fell back to sleep. Her last thought before slipping into unconsciousness was the absurd notion that the bed still felt empty.

In the morning, she felt Margaery’s assessing gaze on her, but Brienne couldn’t even fathom where to start. They dug into a box of cereal for breakfast - her first cold breakfast in days - and Brienne tried her best not to think of what was happening far south of them. 

“I called in to work,” Margaery informed her when Brienne voiced her concern. “What do you want to do?”

“You should go in,” Brienne said tiredly. Her moment of weakness and tears seemed so embarrassing in retrospect; to have Margaery fly across town for her sake only to comfort her in her sleep, what the hell had she been thinking?

“Not a chance. Besides, you can help me with something. My manager wants me to start a new series and I was thinking of adding in some prenatal aspects.” Margaery said it lightheartedly, but there was an undercurrent of uncertainty, like she’d practiced it but not well enough. 

Brienne gave her a doubtful glance. “What kind of series?”

“It’s been a while since I uploaded any yoga instruction videos, I’d started on one several months ago when” - Margaery winced - “well, maybe I’ve been thinking of the prenatal part for a while, but it can work as well for anyone else as it would me. It’s really just a gentler version.”

They took each other in, a million things being left unsaid. 

“I really don’t want to be on camera,” Brienne started.

“You don’t have to be. It’ll just be so I can see what a pregnant woman can actually tolerate and, added plus, gets us both out of here for a bit.”

That didn’t relieve any of Brienne’s doubts. “Exactly where are you talking about?”

Her answer came fifteen minutes later, after she’d changed into well-worn sweats and a tank top that was far more snug around her middle than it used to be. Margaery led her up to the roof of the building, a short trip considering that she already lived on the top floor, a result of Renly and Loras’ preference for the finer things in life. 

It’d been months upon months since Brienne had gone up there, the last time before she’d even gotten pregnant. Renly and Loras didn’t cook much, but they could order catering as well as anyone else and they’d invited a hodgepodge of people over for drinks, everyone gathering and laughing and chatting in the low light of the evening. There were wooden benches and a rooftop garden, obviously kept up by someone who was hired by the building managers as, even barely into spring, everything was well tended. 

They set out their mats under one of the pergolas, after shoving aside some King’s Mountain chairs; the sun wasn’t quite directly overhead, but Brienne took the sunglasses Margaery handed her, then the sunblock, lathering it on in silence. Once she indicated her readiness, Margaery started giving her quiet cues, helping Brienne into different positions when her sense of balance showed itself to be far different than it used to be.

Despite the barely warming sun and cool air, Brienne felt beads of sweat forming at her temples and the small of her back before long. She’d done her fair share of long walks and simple stretches throughout the course of her pregnancy, only gentle exercise at the recommendation of her doctor after all the stress - gods, what a way to put it - but once Margaery saw what she was capable of, she pushed a little harder, gently coercing Brienne into more complicated positions.

Brienne was spent and thankful when they got to the end, lying flat on her back under the pergola, strategically placing herself under a beam to keep the sun out of her face. She knew without Margaery saying that she was in the corpse pose, but it made her laugh softly instead of falling into another bout of distress. Maybe it was the endorphins racing through her warm, thrumming body or the fact that it was such a disconnected word. Corpse. As if such a simple, macabre term could ever really describe what it was really like to lose the entirety of someone, their spirit and verve snuffed out in an instant. 

She let out a rough breath. Maybe it was a dangerous word, after all.

Opening her eyes, Brienne stared through the slats above her, making out a flock of birds in the far distance. They flew independently of each other and yet as one at the same time, rolling through the sky, making one shape that disappeared into the next, a winding, rippling force against a bright blue sea. _Take one out and the others would continue_ , she mused to herself. 

“How do you feel?” Margaery asked. The question of the godsdamn day.

Still, Brienne came back to herself and took stock of her body. She felt warm, a little sweaty and the kid seemed to have been lulled to sleep, no elbows or feet poking at her from the inside. Despite the dark turn of her thoughts, she realized she actually felt pretty good and said so.

Margaery made a relieved noise and sat up next to her, crossing her legs and rolling her head around to stretch her neck. 

“Did you really need to do this for a video?”

Brienne didn’t mean to ask the question, but it was out there before she could take it back. Apparently that sort of nonsense must be contagious and she started to apologize, but Maragery smiled self-consciously and replied, “Perhaps not. But did it help?”

“It did,” Brienne said simply.

Margaery brought up her knees, wrapping her arms around her legs and dropping her chin to rest on top. “My manager doesn’t actually have a say in what I’m doing next. I haven’t come off of family leave since the accident.”

Brienne sat up, startled by the admission. 

“I don’t need to work, not really, and they understood that everything was a one-two punch kind of thing,” Margaery explained, looking off to one side. “It’s hard to care about putting together makeup tips or fashion advice when everything’s gone to shit, you know?”

“I know,” Brienne agreed. 

“I did have plans. I was going to branch out. There was a fashion house that wanted me to put together designs for them, it would have been amazing. But it came up just as Loras asked if I wanted to” - Margaery strummed her fingers where they were resting on her forearms - “and that was more important. I don’t necessarily regret it, but that opportunity passed and now… now I’m just going day-to-day, trying to figure out what would actually be worth picking up.”

“I had no idea, I’m sorry.” Brienne rubbed her lips together, searching for words and coming up short. 

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll figure it out.” There was a glimmer of the old self-assured Margaery somewhere in there, a brief flare of determination in her eyes; it made it easier for Brienne to relax back and refrain from saying something sympathetic.

Margaery continued, unaware of Brienne’s thoughts. “You did really well. You’ve never done yoga before though?”

“Nothing structured like this, but I do stretches,” Brienne explained. “Used to do more than that - running, hiking, rock wall climbing…”

Laughing, Margaery announced, “Gods, can you imagine trying to climb now? You could ask the baby to grab a hold of something when you needed some support.”

The mental image was so ludicrous that Brienne had to laugh, too, it escaped her throat and filled the air. Margaery gave her the widest, brightest smile, something she’d almost forgotten existed. 

“Ugh, I miss it!” Brienned scrubbed at her hair with both her hands. “I could do it now, it’s perfectly safe for a while still, but they’ve been telling me to take it easy and it’s so annoying. I think I’ve walked in the park at least a thousand times. It’s so weird to me, to not at least jog or finish with lifting weights, it’s driving me crazy.”

Margaery wrinkled her nose. “That sounds horrible.” 

“The running and weights or the endless loops?”

“The second part, definitely,” Margaery answered. 

Brienne let out an affected sigh and rubbed her stomach, then scratched at an errant itch. “Don’t even know how much I can lift anymore or what my fastest league would be. I used to have a six pack. It wasn’t my goal, but I had one.” 

“I remember.” Margaery’s eyes went wide and dreamy. “I was very impressed.”

The tone in her voice made Brienne’s face go red and Margaery laughed again. “Don’t worry, I’m not hitting on you. I can show my appreciation without wanting to sex you up.”

“Thank… you?” Brienne said faintly. 

“Even if you weren’t hopelessly straight, Renly would have made sure I didn’t make a move anyway,” Margary continued. 

Brienne shook her head. “What?”

“Come on, Brienne.” Margaery’s voice was still light and amused. “I heard enough stories about how he made sure that Hyle guy knew he was a waste of space. Goes to show that he wasn’t all that welcoming to anyone else who tried to get your attention.”

“Renly wouldn’t-” 

But he would. Brienne huffed out a breath. They’d always been rather jealous of one another’s company, even if there had never been a romantic moment between them. Be it because of Renly’s distant relationship with his family and the losses Brienne had experienced, once they had discovered their friendship - born of a joined _fuck you_ at those who tried to bully them and built on being two rather lonely kids - it was hard to let anyone else in. People had flitted in and out of Renly’s life in the years they’d had together, but Brienne had always known she came first, at least until Loras came around. 

It’d taken time - and pedicures, among a host of other things - but once Loras placed himself in Brienne’s good graces, it wasn’t difficult to share Renly. She knew Loras loved Renly as much, perhaps more, than she did. Who was she to stop them from being together? Perhaps Renly just never found the person he saw fit to share Brienne. Could she really blame him for feeling the same as she had?

“He really did hate Hyle,” Brienne pondered. 

Margaery cocked her head. “Eh, was he really all that great to begin with?”

Brienne laughed, embarrassed to admit, “No, not at all.”

“Good riddance to bad rubbish then,” Margaery announced. “But, hey, if you ever get curious, do _not_ hesitate to let me know.”

“I thought you weren’t hitting on me,” Brienne grumbled, mostly facetiously, to cover her rising embarrassment. She couldn’t be sure that Margaery was completely accurate with her _hopelessly straight_ pronouncement, but she had enough weighing on her mind without opening that particular box. 

“Always good to keep options open, as I always say.” Margaery shrugged and stood up, her movements suddenly purposefully casual as she brushed down her pants and rolled up the mats when Brienne stood as well. “Besides, if there’s a chance, I should probably throw my hat into the ring before someone else takes you off the market entirely.”

“I think you're mixing your metaphors.” And possibly trying to lead her into a conversation that Brienne wasn’t sure she was ready to have just yet - but did she know? How could she? “I’m hungry, how about you?”

“Famished,” Margaery said eagerly. “Too bad Lannister’s not here, I could guilt him into making me something.”

Brienne clenched her eyes shut, annoyed with herself that she managed to bring him to mind without meaning to. She made sure to stay turned away from Margaery, heading back to the stairs and down the apartment when she answered, “I think there’s some stuff in the fridge from a couple days ago, maybe some chicken.”

“Spatchcock!” Margaery cheered.

Brienne chuckled in response, unable to keep it in when she remembered how Jaime had said the word enthusiastically, once he discovered it on one of the many, many videos he had tabbed on his phone. Margaery had challenged him to make something slightly more complicated and he’d turned up with a whole, uncooked chicken, taking great pleasure in taking scissors to the back of it and then shoving the heel of his hand down on the breastbone to lay it flat, shouting _spatchcock!_ triumphantly. His eyes had been bright, his smile proud and delightfully infectious; they’d all laughed like idiots. 

_Gods_ , she missed him. 

She rubbed at her face, trying to clear away the thought, but it was impossible. Brienne didn’t know what to do with it, the unavoidable truth of missing him and wishing he weren’t gone. It didn’t help to remind herself of how seeing Jaime again would mean she’d have to deal with what he said, to put at risk a friendship that she cherished. Despite it all, he was still her one good thing, the person who’d become undeniably dear to her, barring the one she carried inside her. 

Dropping her hands, Brienne looked across the way to find Margaery had gone straight for the kitchen and, all at once, she recognized that that wasn’t entirely true anymore. 

Margaery rummaged through the fridge, pulled out what she liked and set it to warm in the microwave, likely clueless to how Brienne stood behind her, hemming and hawing and wondering and doubting until she blurted out, “Jaime told me he loves me.”

Her friend - yes, her friend, Margaery had to be, there was no one else she could dare say this to, no one else she trusted enough to hear the discomposure in her voice - turned slowly in place. 

Margaery stuck her fingers in her ears, wiggling them wildly as if pretending to clear away a blockage, and carefully said, “I think… say that again?”

“Jaime. He said he loves me,” - Brienne swallowed hard - “last night, before he left.”

“Oh,” Margaery breathed out. “Is that why, last night-”

“One of the reasons? The fact that he was on a plane didn’t help things.” Brienne leaned against the back of the couch, gripping at it with her hands as Margaery nodded with understanding. “It was a surprise.”

“I bet.” Margaery scoffed. “I didn’t think he had it in him.”

“To love me?” Brienne asked, far more timidly than she intended, bracing herself against the sinking realization that she’d been wrong and the only person she could have said this to was far, far away and he was the issue in question. 

“No,” Margaery protested vehemently and the sinking feeling disappeared as quickly as it had formed. “No, Brienne, I mean… I kind of guessed? Well, that’s not true, I asked him and he said that he cared about you-”

Brienne’s fingers spasmed against the couch in response to the bolt of shock that ran through her. In those few words it was so much harder to pretend that Jaime hadn’t meant it, not really. 

“-but I didn’t think he’d say anything. He said he wouldn’t, that you had too much going on for him to go there yet,” Margaery finished. 

“Well, he changed his mind,” Brienne said archly. She unclenched her hands and crossed her arms, rubbing at her biceps. 

“Did you… say it back?” She might be hearing things, but Margaery actually sounded hopeful. Brienne preposterously felt like she was disappointing her when she shook her head and Margaery deflated. “You don’t have to, you know. I know he’s all… Lannister, but you don’t need to feel the same way.”

“I don’t know how I feel,” Brienne replied honestly. “And I thought because he was all _Lannister_ that you might not be too happy about it.”

Margaery pulled herself up to sit on the counter and considered it. “Maybe before,” Margaery said slowly, “but he’s not… he’s not the same guy I grew up knowing.”

At Brienne’s questioning face, Margaery explained, “Our parents were business partners, so we’d be dragged along to dinners at each other’s houses. It’s not like we played together, Loras and I were a lot younger and that made more of a difference back then. And he was… you know, that really good looking older kid. Might not be my usual style, but I could appreciate it. And Loras _really_ appreciated it.”

Brienne felt her mouth gape open and, when she couldn't get it to close, she covered it with her hand. It was muffled, but she said, “Please tell me I’m misunderstanding you.”

“You are not,” Margaery informed her with a broad smile. “Let’s just say Jaime Lannister was a _very_ formative aspect of Loras’ self-discovery.”

“Oh, noooo,” Brienne groaned. 

“He might have even, at the tender age of eighteen, made a pass at him?” Margaery bared her teeth, as if she was unsure she should be sharing it. “Looking back, I guess Jaime was not a total dick in how he turned him down, but Loras was pretty devastated, he’d been crushing on him for years at that point. It was easy to hate him for it, for breaking my brother’s heart.”

“Oh good gods, this makes so much sense now.” Renly hated coming second to _anyone_ and he must have learned about Loras’ first… crush? Love? Gods, everything was far more tangled than she could ever have expected. 

“I mean, he’s still Lannister, still that proud, self-absorbed ninny, but I think I’m a bit more fond of him now,” Margaery admitted. “And the fact that he feels that way about you speaks well of him.”

Brienne raised her eyebrows, unsure of how to take that statement. “Does it?” 

“Gods, Brienne, you should see the way he looks at you.” Margaery sighed. “It’s the way I hope someone, someday… It’s really something, okay?” She perked up and patted her thighs with her hands, looking pleased and greedy for more information. “But how did it go? Was it romantic? I bet he tried and made an ass of himself, I’d bet cash money.”

Darting her eyes away, Brienne said, “Not really.”

“Not romantic or not an ass?”

“It was… in a hurry, I don’t think he meant to say it,” Brienne replied, wishing she’d kept the whole matter to herself. 

Margaery tilted her head to one side and Brienne slumped, resigning herself to telling how it had happened. As she spoke, Margaery’s mouth dropped open and by the time Brienne got to how she closed the door, Margaery was digging her phone out of her pocket. 

“Margaery?”

She held up a finger. “One sec.” Then she typed out a flurry of words, poked at the screen with one last flourish and put the phone back down. “That man is an idiot. How could he possibly think that was the right way to say it?”

“Like I said, I don’t think he really meant to,” Brienne protested weakly. 

“No, he definitely meant to,” Margaery said hotly. “He literally knocked on your door and said it. He meant it. He just didn’t think of the consequences, which is so fucking like him to forget what he told me _basically a week ago._ ”

It was hard to decide how she felt, embarrassed or defensive for Jaime or even a warm, curling sense of amazement that Margaery was fully behind her on this. It didn’t feel so wrong to be confused, if Margaery was saying that it was all right with her passionate irritation. 

Nevertheless, her defensiveness came to the forefront and Brienne felt she had to explain further. “He said he wanted me to know because… I don’t know how much to say, it’s Jaime’s business, but there was someone in Dorne that he used to _see_ and I thought he might be seeing them again.”

“He had a hook up, you mean.” Margaery had no use for circumspect terms, clearly. “Okay, continue.”

“Jaime wanted me to know that it was a nonissue, that he wouldn’t meet up with them while he was there. At least not that way.”

“What other way would he?” Margaery’s eyes scanned back and forth, as if she couldn’t help but consider the possible lovers Jaime had hidden in his back pocket. The idea of it turned Brienne’s mouth sour, but she forced it down. “Is he going to see them in a business setting? It’s the Martells’ company he’s working with, isn’t it?”

Brienne cringed. “I really shouldn’t say. It’s their business.”

“Their, them,” Margaery mused aloud, likely already on the path to discovery and then there it was, causing her to sit up like a string had pulled her taut from the crown of her head. “I don’t know whether I want to be right or wrong.”

“Marg-”

“Oberyn and Ellaria Martell, are you serious?” Margaery gasped. “I’m right, aren’t I? That’s why you guys laughed so hard when I said…. Wow. Oh gods, wow.”

Brienne buried her face in her hands. 

“Is it weird that I like Jaime so much better now?” Margaery asked in awe.

Brienne’s head shot up. “ _What_? Yes, that’s _really_ weird.”

“I mean, sorry,” Margaery spread her hands in supplication, “but even I’ve heard stories about them and they are superchoosy. And talented, as far as I know.”

“This is not helping,” Brienne moaned. 

“Yeah, I have to admit this is tripping me up,” Margaery said apologetically. If she tried to hide her lust, she came up completely short. “But… Oberyn and Ellaria.”

“Thanks,” Brienne replied, her tone dry and exhausted. Between the workout and saying everything aloud, she longed for a nap. She felt a squirming somewhere inside her and she dropped her head forward, certain it would be so much more difficult now that the kid was awake. “This is a mess. I don't know where to start with any of this.”

“Really?” Margaery came back to herself, her gaze sharpening. “Do you… do you really not know how you feel about him?”

“How am I supposed to?” Brienne snapped. She immediately regretted it, knowing that it was her confusion and tiredness that was making her edgy. But it was the same question she’d been asking herself for hours, unsure of how to even answer internally. “Sorry… I… I don’t know what to think Margaery. It’s Jaime. _Jaime._ ”

“Right.” Margaery drew it out, her face screwed up with confusion.

She didn’t get it, Brienne could tell. And she already knew it would take more energy than she had to explain how it made so very little sense, for Jaime to flip everything around in one brief interaction. He’d said that nothing needed to change, but how could it not?

Frustrated, Brienne circled the couch and sat down, tugging a pillow close to hold it against her chest. Margaery followed after her, sitting down at her side, but saying nothing for several moments. She chewed on her lip, looking askance at Brienne and then sighing when she only hugged the pillow more tightly. 

“Do me a favor.” Margaery tugged at the pillow, not enough to pull it away, but to jostle Brienne enough to get her to look up. Satisfied that she had her attention, Margaery suggested, “Close your eyes.”

Brienne sighed, but did it.

“Just… think of him. Not of how weird things are or how much of a dumbass he was for telling you what he did and then taking off across the country. Things are a mess, I know they are, but this part is very simple. When you think of him, how do you feel?”

Brienne tipped her head back and discovered that the angle was all wrong, so she shifted minutely until her cheek was to the couch cushion and, like a spike of muscle memory, she was there again. Jaime was sitting across the way and telling her… telling her something he hadn’t shared with anyone else, trusting her. There was something in the way he’d looked back at her, his expression clearer and unburdened and then - 

“Oh shit,” Brienned hissed and pressed her hand to an especially uncomfortable movement within her. And as she did, she felt a corresponding thump in her chest, one that didn’t seem so foreign now that she was paying attention. Her eyes opened wide as the implication became plain and she looked back at Margaery, saying it again, “ _Oh, shit._ ”

“Yup.” Margaery managed to look gratified and resigned all at once. “That’s what I thought.”

###### 

It was raining in Flea Bottom when Brienne went in for her next appointment and she stepped gingerly through puddles until she reached the safety of the brick front awning. The scent of coffee turned her stomach, though it’d been ages since she’d truly felt sick at the thought of any particular food. The last time she’d been to see the counselor, she’d nearly been late, distracted by the bakery that was set on the first floor of his building. He’d been understanding - and perhaps gently amused - when she showed up brushing croissant crumbs off the rounded top of her belly.

Brienne ignored it now, taking the slightly steep flight of stairs to the second floor where there were a series of closed doors that held different offices, among them the clean but worn facilities of one Dr. Davos Seaworth.

Catelyn Stark had advised her to not judge a book by its cover - not something Brienne ever needed to be taught, but was a thoughtful thing to do, nevertheless - assuring her that Dr. Seaworth was highly regarded and skilled, that he’d chosen to return to his roots in Flea Bottom to make himself available for the local community. At the beginning of their first meeting, Brienne had learned that he and his partners hoped that their setting up shop could help dispel the stigma and distrust of the profession. It had made her relax more in his presence, enough that a whole stream of thoughts and worries and uncertainties poured out of her from the moment he sat before her, crossed his legs and asked where she wanted to start.

She wondered if he regretted it, once he got his answer. 

Her arrival was timely, as Dr. Seaworth opened the door to his inner office just as she walked into the tiny lobby area. He waved off his secretary and guided Brienne in, gesturing to the bench and chair that sat opposite his. Between that and his lightly rumpled button down and corduroys, he didn’t give credence to Brienne’s original mental image of a therapist, that of someone who had their clients lie down on a couch as they sat by, rigid and strictly professional in a suit and tie. 

Dr. - _call me Davos, if you’d like_ \- Seaworth smiled pleasantly at her as she chose the single chair and only asked, “How have you been?”

“Still pregnant,” Brienne answered, vying for lightness and landing a solid three paces off center. She gave him a sheepish smile. “Obviously.”

“You’re holding up well? I know those stairs can be a bit tricky, we can arrange to meet downstairs in one of the other offices if it’s more comfortable for you.”

Brienne waved off his concern, though she couldn’t ignore the thoughtfulness in his tone. “I’m all right, they’re hardly an issue.”

“Feel free to let me know if you change your mind.” The offer tabled, Davos asked, “What’s on your mind?”

“A lot.” Brienne looked down at her hands and found them running one over the other across the taut surface of her stomach. The kid was quiet today, as if he, too, was curious about what she would say next. It was ridiculous, considering the issue it had been only a short time before, but the easiest thing to admit was: “Margaery and I have been cleaning out Renly and Loras’ room.”

Davos made an interested noise - he did that a lot, she’d noticed during their first meeting - and waited for her to continue.

“It’s hard, but… easier, with Margaery involved. We’re only doing a little at a time, taking things off the walls, clearing things out of the nightstands.” While they’d found some highly _personal_ things inside, Margaery had chosen to wave them around in an effort to make Brienne laugh and had actually succeeded. As awkward as it was, it was far less trying than going into their closet. They’d discussed maybe bringing Sansa Stark in for that part; she’d been so effusive in offering to help and perhaps it would be easier with someone who was a further step removed from the memories of Renly and Loras. 

Brienne said as much to Davos, relaxing when he made an approving sound. She finished by adding, “I’m still not sure if I’m going to move in there, I really don’t find it necessary just yet, but maybe I’ll feel differently once it’s all done.”

“That’s a big step forward,” Davos said encouragingly. “Given that just considering the action gave you a great deal of anxiety a short time ago.”

“It still does.” Brienne bit her lip, looking towards the rain splattered windows. It was mid-day but the weather brought with it a wealth of shadows from the heavy clouds above; it reminded her of home, or what home used to be. Losing her father had changed all of that and she’d lived a kind of nomadic life since then. 

She wasn’t the kind of person who could hide what she was feeling or let out a slew of lies to cover her true intentions. And she barely knew Davos, but what else was she seeing him for if not to use him as an outside perspective, someone that she didn’t need to satisfy with her reassurances? That in mind, she admitted, “I’ve needed the distraction, something pretty big happened earlier this week.”

“Oh?”

Swallowing roughly, Brienne went on, “I mentioned my neighbor - my friend - Jaime?”

“The one with the dog.”

“Yeah, him.” Brienne had to clear her throat. “He told me that he has feelings for me. That he loves me.”

Davos bobbed his head only slightly, barely discernible from the corner of her eye. “What are your thoughts on that?”

“That’s a question,” Brienne said wryly. 

“So you’re not quite sure.” Her reflexive defensiveness heard a faintly amused tone in his voice, but Brienne looked back to find Davos regarding her with a warm, nonjudgmental expression on his face. “That’s all right, if you don’t know.”

“I think I do?” Brienne forced a smile, but couldn’t maintain it. “Margaery asked me to stop and think about it, to put it in simple black and white and it was so obvious when I did. I care about him. A lot. I’m not sure when it happened, exactly, but I do have… feelings.”

Davos hummed thoughtfully, clearly catching on to the fact that she wasn’t particularly happy about saying it. “Do you feel as if you _have_ to return his affections?” 

“No, it’s not like that,” Brienne replied in measured tones. She glanced away again, her gaze turning inwards. “Though I’m sure some people would say I was crazy for turning him down if I did.”

“How so?”

Brienne bit her lip. “Well, he’s beautiful.”

Davos tipped his head, clearly perplexed. “What does that have to do with anything?”

Brienne took him in, from the unremarkable outfit to his salt-and-pepper beard and thin crown of hair. He had deep crow’s feet and was missing parts of his fingers on one hand, but he had nice eyes and the kind of face that many would surely say had grown more distinguished as the years had gone on. But then, men were allowed a multitude of sins, far more than women were. 

“It’s not the point, but beautiful people, in my experience, don’t have the same… hang-ups that other people do. Not that they don’t have struggles,” she added hastily. “I know that everyone has issues. Jaime has issues, he’s told me himself.”

At Davos’ small motion with his damaged hand, she continued, “I noticed it about him from the beginning, it’s hard to ignore. But I’ve found that really good looking people, they don’t have the same hesitations about looking people in the eye, the way they… engage. It’s like that layer of uncertainty is just… gone. If they worry about how they look, it’s not nearly to the same degree as-”

She gestured at herself. _Look_ , she told him silently, _my nose, my jaw._ Sure, she’d gone through the painful process of braces as a kid, but her teeth were still large, consistently refusing to let her over-plump lips take the majority of the attention. There was a temptation to stand and let him see the full length of her, to make it clear that her height hadn’t helped matters either, but Brienne was too tired to carry out the thought. 

His brow furrowed, Davos surmised, “Your experience with beautiful people, as you say, has it been painful?”

Brienne couldn’t contain her bitter laugh. “No, no, they’re fine. Mostly. I just learned a long time ago not to read into their friendliness. It’s the ones who fall somewhere in the middle who are the cruelest, as if I’ll, I don’t know, infect them with my looks if they let me in too closely. It’s what… ”

She trailed off and felt her throat go a little raw, but she forced herself to finish the thought. “It’s what made me and Renly friends, originally.”

Davos nodded silently, a gentle _go on_.

“He took a gap year before he started at Stormlands, so we were freshmen together. And Renly’d been in the closet up until then, had decided that college was the right time to really be himself.” The remembrance of it didn’t make her any less sorrowful, how disheartened Renly had been that first semester when he’d only gotten jeers for his honesty. “He learned pretty quickly that not much had changed about people aside from moving from one school to another. He got some pretty ugly responses.

“So when he heard that some of the guys were daring each other to ask out this tall, ugly girl on the next floor, he… Renly came to me. He told me what they were planning and it felt awful, but also really nice? No one had ever stood up for me before.” Never mind that a fair amount of bullshit had been aimed her way since she was a kid; she’d gone into college with a far more realistic outlook than Renly had, but it bonded them all the same. “From then on, we were there for one another, two lonely kids who knew what it was like to be treated like shit for things we couldn’t control.”

Brienne sighed. “I latched onto him, the first kind person that I wasn’t related to. And even though things got better for him, eventually, we were… Renly and Brienne. That’s how people knew us all throughout college”

“It was a significant connection during a difficult period,” Davos remarked. 

“It was,” Brienne agreed. 

“You mentioned last time that he was also attractive, that you’d had feelings for him in the beginning.”

“I did, but it was, it obviously wouldn’t work,” Brienne explained. It had become a joke to them in the years since, _remember when you loooooved me, Tarth_? “I knew better than to keep that up.”

“And now there’s someone new, someone you also find attractive, but who has indicated his romantic interest.” Davos waited until she met his line of sight. “And you’ve formed a significant connection during a difficult time in your life.”

Brienne closed her eyes, took in a lungful of air and let it out slowly. “Yes.”

“Do you feel as if you know better now?”

“It’s not the same thing,” Brienne said tightly.

“Tell me how.”

As if it were that easy. But she tried. 

“I knew I had a crush on Renly from the beginning, I had to shed that. But Jaime… I didn’t know. I was so caught up in everything, that it didn’t- he was just _there_. Friendly in that casual way beautiful people can be. Always popping up, bringing around his dog, dinner, movies. It felt a little like Renly, but” - Brienne sighed again - “if you had asked me a week ago if he was interested in me, it wouldn’t have made any sense. He was just Jaime.

“There was a night, when he told me something personal and it made me see that he had his own ghosts that he was dealing with.” Brienne proceeded cautiously, not wanting to betray Jaime’s experience to a man he’d likely never meet anyway. “Someone tried to take advantage of him and I don’t think he ever fully processed it. And after he told me that, he seemed more real to me, less the random guy next door and more my friend that I wanted to be around. That might have even been where I started to feel something, but I can’t say for sure.

“Jaime’s become a huge part of my life. He’s the one who pushed me to consider taking custody, the one who told me that it wasn’t a bad thing for me to want to be a mom.” Jaime had done it in possibly the worst way possible, like a bull in a china shop, but the end result was the same. “He’s impulsive and doesn’t always think before he speaks, and my happiness is important to him.”

She motioned down at her stomach, where a rolling movement within her formed a faint bulge on the surface, right beside her bellybutton. “And apparently someone figured it out before I did. Even if I just think of Jaime, this one starts to go nuts.”

“You care about him,” Davos summarised. 

“I do.”

If only it were that simple.

“Do you know why you’re hesitating?” Davos asked. 

Brienne pinched her lips together. She looked down at her stomach, placing her palms over the shifting movement, silently asking him to settle down. It’d been just the two of them for so long, since before Jaime had come in like a whirlwind. They’d both upended her life, in vastly different ways and she was still desperately trying to grab a handhold for stability.

She was supposed to carry him and then let him go. To Renly and Loras, then Stannis or Olenna. Until Jaime. 

Her chin trembled, completely without her permission and she apologized down at him for the millionth time. Brienne forced herself to speak but it still only came out as a whisper. “It isn’t fair.”

Davos said nothing. 

Brienne sniffled and tried to pretend that her vision wasn’t going blurry. “When I found out I was pregnant, I- I had a moment where I thought of what it would be like if he were mine. I didn’t mean to think it, but I did. And now he’s going to be.” She ran the back of her wrists over her eyes. “Then it turns out that Loras liked Jaime, a long time ago, as a kid. And now he wants to be with me.”

She waited for a moment, convinced she would hear the dramatic roll of thunder to punctuate the godsawful truth. Instead, only the faint pitter patter of rain filled the space between them. Brienne wanted, irrationally, to laugh. What did a woman have to do to get an assist from a deeply apathetic universe? It could take her family, her best friend, throw her life into turmoil, but couldn’t give up a measly thunderclap to recognize the shit she’d been put through. 

Brienne braced herself and then let it out. “It’s stupid, it’s so stupid, but I can’t help but wonder - did I make this happen? I know I didn’t, that’s a stupid thing to think, but I feel as if I’ve… stolen all the good things that have come out of it. Like it’s not supposed to be mine, none of it, but now it is or it can be and all I can think is that I’ve taken everything good that Renly and Loras were supposed to have.”

There was a box of tissues next to her and Brienne made use of it, noisily blowing her nose and using another to wipe at her face before looking back at Davos. “It’s hard to know what to do when all I can think is that they should be here, they should have this. It’s not really mine.”

When she didn’t add anything else, Davos nodded thoughtfully. “Those words can cause a lot of turmoil. Should. Fair. Not everyone has the same pattern of thinking, so we all have different expectations of those words.”

“But it’s not. Fair, I mean. They should-” Brienne stopped and sighed once more, exhausted at how it had come out even as she tried to avoid it. “They should be here.”

“Unfortunately, that’s not the world we are presented with. You’ll drive yourself mad with all the _shoulds_ of life,” Davos said kindly. “Should your friends have had so much trouble trying to adopt? Should their first attempts have gone badly, leaving you as their final surrogate? Should you have lost them the way you did? We can talk about things that should have happened until we are blue in the face, but at the end of the day, we have to contend with what has actually occurred. As for fairness… we all have our different benchmarks for what is actually fair, but it’s a recipe for disaster for one person to impose their idea of fairness on everyone else.”

“I don’t think it’s wrong for me to want for people to treat each other with respect or that people who want to have a child should be able to have one,” Brienne said gruffly.

“It isn’t wrong, but to go out and expect the rest of the world to feel the exact same way - it’d be a utopia, a very nice one,” Davos allowed, “but it’s not what we have at hand. All we can control is how we treat others, how we respond to their behavior. You strike me as a person who strives to be kind, which probably makes it all the more difficult when you don’t experience that kindness in return.”

Brienne grimaced. “Well, people can be real assholes, that doesn’t mean I have to be one.”

“A wise stance.” Davos waited a beat. “You couldn’t control what happened to your friends. What you can do is choose how to respond, to set free the idea of what should have happened, to stop getting tangled up in whether it was fair or not. It wasn’t fair, but you can’t change that. What _can_ you do?”

There was so much silence in therapy, time that Davos gave her to formulate her thoughts. It was a struggle to do as he asked, to push away the shoulds and unfairness of the whole matter, but Brienne made a concentrated effort, her face pinching as she set Renly and Loras to the side, even her dad and Galladon, her mom and her faceless sisters. Her life would have been so much different if even one of them were still at her side, but they weren’t. They couldn’t be. All she had was herself and the kid. Then it struck her. 

She also had Jaime.

And Margaery.

Even Stannis and Olenna.

“I can try to give him a good life,” Brienne said carefully, working around the lump in her throat. “Make sure he’s loved and give him a wider circle of people than I allowed myself to have. Because that didn’t work for me, I know better now.”

Davos smiled at her. “There are worse places to start, I’d say.”

“Barely.” Brienne sank back into the chair and admitted, “I’m terrified that I’ll screw everything up for him.”

“The fact that you’re concerned about it makes it less likely that you will,” Davos replied. “It’s the people who aren’t paying attention that can cause the most damage, in my experience.”

Brienne responded with vague mumbles, not even sure what she meant to respond, only that she probably should. 

“As for your friend, Jaime? What are your thoughts there?”

“I’m still figuring that out.” Brienne leaned forward to rest her face in her hands for a moment, sighing into them before sitting up again. “He said nothing has to change, that he only wanted me to know. Jaime’s not… he doesn’t _lie._ He’ll hide things, apparently, but I don’t think he was lying when he said that.”

“So you have time to figure it out. That’s good.”

“How would that even work? I’m about to be a _mom_ and he knows that, he was instrumental in getting me to accept that.” Brienne groaned loudly. “Why did he have to - _ugh_.”

Davos hummed again. “Perhaps his timing wasn’t ideal, but it seems he recognized that you have multiple concerns at hand. If he isn’t pressing you for more, there’s no reason for you to feel as if you need to give him an answer until you’re ready.”

“I’m sensing a ‘but’.” Brienne said, cocking up her eyebrows.

He let out a light chuckle. “No buts, only… don’t impose any restrictions on yourself. Yes, you’ll be a mom soon and then you’ll be a mom for the rest of your life. There will never be a perfect moment to start a romantic relationship with anyone, if you decide you want one, be it with Jaime or someone else. To say you can only be one thing to one person at a time - that’s a sneaky _should_ that you need to recognize and discard. There are no set rules here and no reason to deny yourself someone or something that could enrich your life, purely because it’s out of the perceived norm.”

“Believe me, I am well aware I left behind all semblance of normal a long time ago,” Brienne replied. “If I ever had it to begin with.”

“I can say, with all assuredness” - Davos leaned forward, his voice playfully lowered and Brienne edged in to close the distance, eager to hear it - “not one of us ever has.”

###### 

Brienne tugged on her jacket in preparation to ward off the cool evening air. Margaery and Sansa Stark remained at her kitchen table, excitedly putting together invitations for the baby shower she had correctly guessed they were planning. Sansa had a crafty streak to her and insisted on putting together the invitations, though she generously allowed Brienne to withdraw after her third papercut. 

The table was covered with a slew of clippings and cardstock, twee stickers and confetti. Salmon was at their feet, going mad over spare bits of paper and luxuriating anytime Sansa bent down to scratch at his ears. Tiger was there, too, his adoration of Margaery going uninterrupted and Brienne couldn’t help smiling to herself over Jaime’s forthcoming struggle to reclaim his dog’s affections. 

The end product, of which they’d had three before Brienne bled over one and left them with two, was not nearly as cutesy as Brienne had feared. Somehow Sansa pulled together all the individual pieces to make a pretty, understated invitation - Brienne still marveled at how delighted Sansa was to be a part of the process, but she couldn’t find any reason to decline her help. 

What she could do was go up to the roof, leaving the two women to continue on without her bodily fluids ruining their work, and allow herself to finally do what Davos had suggested as she left his office a few days before. 

It felt silly to even consider it, but it was the last happy, uncomplicated memory she had of being in Renly’s presence, up on the roof, late in the evening. Everyone had wandered off after the get together, one by one, and they’d sat together under one of the pergolas, chatting and taking in the view of King’s Landing from way up high. She couldn’t even remember what they had talked about, only that they’d purposefully avoided discussing fertility issues, but Brienne knew that the idea had lurked in her mind, even then, to offer her help. 

Sitting down in one of the chairs, Brienne put her feet up and zipped up her jacket. 

_This is so stupid,_ she thought to herself.

“This is so stupid,” she said out loud.

 _Have you talked to him?_ Davos had asked her, just as the session was ending. _Renly. Have you told him what you’re struggling with?_

She could only imagine the look that she’d given him in return, considering how Davos had laughed warmly in response. 

_Think about it. He’s always on your mind, whether he’s in your presence or not. You’ll be surprised at how easy it can be, to talk to someone when you knew them so well. You’ll perhaps even find that you know what they would say to you in response._

“So stupid,” Brienne muttered again.

Renly wouldn’t have found it stupid. He always had a bit of a silly streak to him. Brienne sighed. 

“I’m only doing this because you’re not here to make fun of me,” she said aloud. 

Her only answer was the faint sound of horns honking on the streets far below. She chose to pretend, instead, that there was the sound of someone breathing next to her, clothes rustling as they fought and failed to find a comfortable position; Renly had good-naturedly complained on multiple occasions that the manager should add cushions to the wooden seats. Brienne had teased him about his tender backside every time he did. 

She couldn’t laugh over this, but Davos was right. It was easy to imagine Renly here. “Though, if I had the option,” Brienne told the imagined specter, “I would have taken decades of getting shit from you instead of what it actually turned out to be.”

She coughed to clear her throat of the raw ache that had become so familiar since she’d last seen her best friend. Nevertheless, it spurred her on. “It is supremely unfair that you’re not here, you know that, right? I’m not supposed to let the idea of fairness get to me, but it’s not. This would have been so much easier if you’d just not gotten on that godsdamned plane. But you did. And here I am.

“You would have had a son. You’re going to have a son and he’s never going to meet you and that is so… wrong and I can’t change it. I wish I could. I really do, but I have to carry on anyway and it’s _hard_. It is so hard that you’re not here because you were my best friend, my favorite person and I’m left here with all the remnants of your life, trying to fit into it somehow. 

“Are you watching all of this? I bet you are, I bet you’re _pleased_ that I’m a wreck over you because you loved it, you loved having all my attention, didn’t you?” Brienne wanted to sound stern as she said it, but it was a losing battle. She’d known what they were to each other, the likely imbalance of it, but she’d chosen it anyway. Renly made it so easy to choose him, over and over. Margaery’s words came to mind and Brienne had to ask, “Did you really do it? Did you make it so that no one else had a chance of taking what you considered yours?”

She laughed lowly. “You probably did. But I loved you, even knowing how selfish you were. Nobody else wanted to be selfish over me, how could I ask you to stop?”

Brienned tucked her hands into the pockets of her jacket, clenching them tightly within. She didn’t want to be angry with him, but now that the option was the on the table - and Renly wasn’t there to playfully tease her away from it - she felt it rise within her.

“I can’t blame you for my choices, but how often did I rely on your help in making them? I listened, because I knew that you knew me and you wanted what was best for me, but I don’t have that anymore and I have been fucking _lost_ without it. It’s absurd, I’m a grown woman, but without you, I was completely unmoored and now I’m finally getting things together and I feel like I’m losing you more and more every step of the way.

“Gods, I miss you. I miss you, I miss you, I miss you,” Brienne breathed out, pulling out her right hand to rest against her face, as if it were enough to hide the tears that were spilling down her cheeks. “Gods, you asshole, why did you have to leave me?”

Brienne took several shuddering breaths, dropping her shoulders down with every exhalation. Her body slowly relaxed the more she did it and she was able to put her hands in her pockets again, snuggling down into the collar of her jacket as she settled back in the seat. 

“Jaime loves me.” She said it softly. Maybe to Renly, mostly to herself. “That probably would have pissed you off, for so many reasons, but it is what it is. I might… I don’t know. I’m still trying to decide what to do with that. The funniest thing, though? You guys could have been such good friends, if you’d only tried. I think that’s one of the saddest things about all this. The arrogant asshole across the hallway? I can’t decide which one of you I’m referring to when I say that. But he’s not that, not really, and neither were you. It makes me sad that neither one of you would ever get to learn that for yourselves. But I know.”

She went silent for a while, staring out at the buildings all around, which blocked the view of Blackwater Bay. At that moment, Brienne missed Tarth with an almost palpable ache. The home she’d been raised in was sold long ago, a decision she’d convinced herself was the right thing to do as it signified that she was moving on. As it turned out, letting go of a place wasn’t nearly on the same level of coming to terms with the losses that preceded it. 

Now Brienne was embarking on something new, making a family of two - maybe more, if she could find it in herself to take the risk - and the thought of staying in King’s Landing for the rest of her life filled her with dismay. 

When she spoke aloud again, it wasn’t to Renly or herself, but to the kid inside. Holding each side of her stomach, she spoke downward and said, “I’m going to give you everything I possibly can, okay? I grew up on the water and I think you should, too. I want to go sailing again and I want to take you with me, show you how to navigate a boat, just like my dad showed me. Start with some rowing and then work up to sails. It’s wonderful - the salty air and rolling with the waves. You should get to have it anytime you want. Eventually. We’ve got time to get there.”

Looking up, she imagined Renly was next to her again. It didn’t feel as illogical as when she’d first stepped out onto the roof to talk to him. “I know you’d probably want to raise him here, put him in some insanely expensive pre-school and, I don’t know, buy him only organic diapers. Maybe I will. Maybe I won’t. But I need to raise him my way. I need to stop thinking of him as only yours, all right?” It got hard to speak again and Brienne knew the question was rhetorical even as she asked it: “Is that okay?”

Her phone rang. 

Brienne jumped slightly when it did and she gave a furtive look around, relieved when she saw she was still alone. Her heart jumped to her throat, however, when she saw Jaime’s name on the screen. 

The kid went nuts. Of course he did. 

It’d been a week since she’d last seen him, they’d traded a few texts as if play acting that nothing had changed, but the thudding in her her chest was unmistakable. So she answered, “Hello? Jaime?”

“Hey, Brienne, hi. I hope it’s not too late.” He made a strangled noise. “At night, I mean. I hope I didn’t wake you.”

 _Nope, I was just on the roof, talking to my dead best friend_. She could hardly say that, so instead Brienne told him, “No, I was still up.”

Brienne shut her eyes tightly as Jaime called that _good_. She imagined him somewhere in Dorne, perhaps in his hotel room, alone as he swore he would be. It was easy to believe, that he’d been honest about that. _Jaime doesn’t lie_ , she’d told Davos, and she hadn’t been lying when she said it, either. 

That in mind, she told him the truth of it, how he’d been missed by all of them, her heart warming when Jaime’s voice went soft and he said _good_ again. _He_ was good, Brienne realized, good and loving and terrifying all at the same time. Choosing him, choosing the possibility of them… it wasn’t so difficult to imagine, either. 

Then he said, “I’m here with Ellaria and Oberyn, actually, we just had din-” and she wasn’t sure what cut him off, the phone or the roaring sound between her ears and then there was someone else, an earnest, uninhibited voice that said, “Brienne! Darling, at last!”

Brienne pulled the phone away from her ear and stared at it for a second too long. Bringing it back to listening range she heard the woman saying “-terribly selfish and rude-”

“Excuse me?” Brienne asked tentatively.

“Jaime, that ridiculous man, it’s as if he wants to make things unnecessarily complicated,” the woman - fine, it was Ellaria, Brienne couldn’t fake her ignorance of it - explained. “So I’ve taken matters into my own hands, as you can see. How are you _doing_?”

“Fine.” Brienne drew out the word, still bewildered. 

“You hardly sound convinced of that, but I understand,” Ellaria replied baldly. “It’s not as if we know one another, though we wouldn’t have that problem if Jaime had just done as I’d asked and introduced us months ago. We’d likely saved the both of you a great deal of time and made this whole situation much less dramatic.”

Brienne glanced around, half hoping to find some sort of buffer to help her deal with Ellaria’s blunt and exuberant manner. Finding nothing, she allowed herself to say, “I didn’t know you knew about me or any of this.”

“Of course I did, and I’ve wanted to get to know the woman who managed to capture Jaime’s attention so thoroughly.” She laughed, throaty and carefree. “You are something very special, you do know that?”

“I don’t… That’s kind of you to say, but I’m not- I’m just me,” Brienne said weakly. 

“Nonsense.” She didn’t know what Ellaria looked like, but she could readily picture a Dornish stereotype with dark hair and eyes, curvy and lovely with a graceful hand that she swept through the air as she batted away Brienne’s denial. “You must be nothing less than spectacular for Jaime to be so besotted. I know him well enough to be aware of that.”

Despite the staggering, overwhelming nature of the other woman, Brienne let out a wry laugh. “I suppose that’s true.”

Ellaria didn’t immediately reply and it left time for Brienne to wonder, briefly, if she was as amenable to Jaime’s decision to end their relationship. They hadn’t spoken more than a minute or two - with Ellaria doing most of the talking - but Brienne had the distinct feeling that what Ellaria wanted, Ellaria got. 

She wondered if Ellaria still wanted Jaime and it made her breath go still in her chest. 

“Yes, I imagine that is a valid concern on your part,” Ellaria mused, as if she knew exactly where Brienne’s thoughts had led her. “He told you about our arrangement.”

“He did. He also told me it was over,” Brienne replied. Something brave stirred inside of her and her voice was stronger as she added, “I believe him.”

“But you don’t trust that we feel the same.”

“I don’t know you,” Brienne admitted.

“That’s fair.” Ellaria hummed lightly. “You don’t know us, but you’re right to believe him, because it is over. It was over the moment Jaime told us that he’d finally managed to meet you.”

Brienne wet her lips, stunned that Ellaria could say it so frankly. It put those moments in perspective: Jaime with Tiger at his feet, meeting at the elevator, her chastisement at his doorway. _All that time._ Brienne shook her head, still not ready to decide what it would mean in the end. “You can let him go that easily?”

“Jaime was never ours to begin with. Well, perhaps on loan.” Ellaria chuckled again. “But we came to mean something more to one another. Jaime is our friend and we want to see him happy. And apart from the spectacle he has made of all this - entirely on his own, I’m sure we can agree on it - that is what you’ve done.”

“I didn’t mean to-” Brienne began and then cut herself off. 

Ellaria sighed with no little dramatics of her own. “Gods, this is exactly why he should have let me sort this out ages ago.” 

“You think you could have?” Brienne was amused, despite herself, by the other woman’s flair. 

“Well, I certainly could have gotten things done much sooner, but there’s nothing to be done about that now,” Ellaria bemoaned. “Jaime thinks you need time and perhaps he’s right, but I have to at least say one thing now that I have the opportunity.”

Brienne shook her head. “I have a feeling I couldn’t stop you if I tried.”

“We are coming to know each other so well already,” Ellaria said gaily. She paused for a moment, her voice more vulnerable when she said, “Jaime loves you.”

“I know,” Brienne said quietly, struck by the utter simplicity of it.

“I think he is someone made for love and he’s searched a long time for someone worthy of it. He found you,” Ellaria continued. “All I can ask is that you please not hurt my friend.”

“I won’t. I’ll- I’ll try not to, I wouldn’t do that, not on purpose.” Brienne stumbled over the words and sighed. “He’s had enough of- well, it doesn’t… I’m sorry, I can’t promise that I won’t, but I can promise that it’s the last thing I want, to hurt him.”

There were a few moments of quiet between them and then Ellaria said, “A lesser woman would have said no and been done with it.”

“I... can’t answer any other way,” Brienne said honestly. 

She could practically _hear_ the smile in Ellaria’s voice. “We’re going to be grand friends, I know it.”

“Are we?”

“Absolutely. Here, give me your number.”

Brienne was still lost. “My number?”

“Of course, I can’t just keep stealing the phone from Jaime’s hand anytime I want to speak with you. He’ll be leaving tomorrow anyway.”

“Ahhh, sure,” Brienne said slowly and she rattled off her number. Within seconds she received a text from an unknown sender and she opened it to find a picture of a stunning woman waving at the camera, someone who far outshined any of her imaginings of what a typical Dornish beauty looked like. “Is that you?”

“I was under the impression you’d already seen a photo of me,” Ellaria teased.

“To be honest, I tried not to look very closely,” Brienne admitted.

Ellaria laughed brightly, but said, “It was rather sneaky of me to do that. But you’ll see I’m not much of one to rest on my laurels when I can move things along instead.”

“Well, you managed that,” Brienne said dryly. 

“I did, didn’t I?” She sounded so damned pleased with herself, but Brienne recognized with pleasure that it didn’t annoy her. It brought to mind, in a way, of how Margaery used to be, what she was rediscovering as time passed. Brienne liked the idea of Jaime having someone so fervently on his side, just as she did. “I suppose I’ll have to leave the pair of you to proceed as you see fit, as much as it _pains_ me. In the meanwhile, if you need to talk anything out, be it Jaime or motherhood, please don’t hesitate to call. I’m like any other mother, ready to offer my knowledge for those just starting on that journey.”

Brienne, surprised by it, asked, “You’ve got children?”

“Four. Well, five,” Ellaria amended. “Four that Oberyn and I have together and one more that has chosen to stay with us instead of her mother. All girls and all hellions, each and every one of them.”

“Wow, I didn’t… five girls,” Brienne said wondrously. 

“Wonderful and wild and sweet and the source of all the madness in our home.” The fondness with which Ellaria said it made Brienne smile down at her stomach. 

She was still smiling when they hung up a few minutes later, and later still when she clipped Tiger into his harness and took him for his evening walk, escorting Margaery and Sansa to the door at the same time.

Brienne couldn’t put her finger on it, what made her feel lighter, more at ease. It reminded her, at first, of the first time Margaery had called her, what a relief it had been that there was someone who knew what she was going through and was willing to wade through it with her. 

Perhaps that was it, Brienne thought to herself. Despite Renly and Loras’ absence, she didn’t feel nearly as alone as she used to. There was Margaery, who convinced her to give the bubbly Sansa a chance, after she’d been so helpful assisting Catelyn with the custody paperwork. Davos was only a part of her life in a professional setting, but even he was someone new, someone warm and interested who wanted to help her. Now there was Ellaria, who Brienne had a feeling she wouldn’t be able to shake off no matter how hard she tried. 

And, it went without saying, there was Jaime. 

Brienne finished their walk, cleaning off Tiger’s paws when they got back to the apartment and she let him playfully lick at her jaw. He trotted off to join Salmon on the fluffy pillow Jaime had one day shown up with, which both animals sank into as Salmon welcomed Tiger in and started grooming his canine buddy. 

She left them behind, cleaning up and changing into pajamas, brushing her teeth, but the image of the two unlikely friends stayed on her mind. It was a simplistic correlation, to put Jaime and herself in their places, but theirs was a friendship that probably didn’t make much sense on the surface, she’d thought that from the beginning, despite Jaime’s protests to the contrary.

Then again, as it turned out, he’d been feeling more all along. 

Brienne crawled into bed, her thoughts gone heavy and contemplative. Part of her considered talking to Renly about it again, but she discarded the notion just as quickly. She had to stop thinking of what Renly would say, think, advise. Whether he was here or not, it was a decision she’d have to make on her own. Even the kid, as opinionated as he was on the subject, couldn’t be her true north. 

When it came to Jaime, she had to make the decision herself. 

Brienne picked up her phone, biting her lip and wondering if it were too late to call. It probably was. But she could send a message, maybe tell Jaime again that she was looking forward to seeing him because that, at least, was straightforward and true. And that, at least, was a good place to start. 

Brienne’s smile bloomed full when, as she opened the app, she received: _i can hear the ocean from my room_

 _I’m jealous,_ Brienne wrote back, not bothering to feign that she hadn’t seen it right away. _I think I can hear someone yelling at passing cars from here._

Jaime sent her a laughing emoji and Brienne laughed with it. 

_el liked you she told me so_

_I like her, too. She’s very… direct._

_you misspelled bossy_

_I appreciated it._

_i bet you did you can be pretty bossy too_

Brienne started to write _so you have a type_ but then backtracked, deleting it and then putting down _She’s offered her knowledge as a mom. I didn’t put it together until she said so, that I don’t actually know any._

_i met her kids tonight not sure you want to take her advice i think we walked in right before the ritual sacrifice was due to start_

_Hyperbole, I’m sure._

_fucking terrifying_

_Don’t be mean._

_okay i wont_

_She did mention they are hellions, though. So maybe you weren’t too far off._

_nah theyre just kids kids are supposed to be little lunatics cant get away with the same shit when theyre adults_

_I’ll see soon enough, as it turns out. The kid - I’ll try to let him have that. I don’t think I ever did._ Brienne didn’t want to mention all the Tarths that were no longer with her, how hard it had been to be a child who lost her mother and then her only brother all too soon. Jaime already knew, he didn’t require her explanation and Brienne was thankful for it. She finished with: _I’m going to try to keep him a kid as long as I can._

Several seconds passed, time in which the text bubbles from Jaime’s side came and went. Brienne breathed in slowly, wondering what it would turn out to be. 

Then: _youre going to be such a great mom_

Brienne shifted onto her side, tugging up her blanket. She had another flash of muscle memory and she spread her hand over the cool sheets before her. Jaime had been there once. She’d woken up and he’d been fast asleep, warm and relaxed and it had been the most content she’d felt in months. How in the world had she turned a blind eye to it for so long?

_I’m glad you’ll be home soon._

_me too_

They wrote back and forth for a while longer, Jaime falling into a long rant about Arianne and Doran Martell, and Brienne could read between the lines, see what was actually bothering him. There was a stack of completed invitations on her kitchen table, one with Jaime’s name on it - not that he needed one, of course he would be there, but Sansa had insisted - and Brienne almost asked if he wanted her to invite Tyrion and Cersei. She may never have met them, but she had a feeling she would before long. 

No, Brienne decided silently. That was probably a discussion better had in person. 

It wasn’t the only one. 

###### 

Brienne hovered by the door, her attention caught by the sound of the gentle ding of the elevator and the dull clatter of luggage being handled and then dragged along. Jaime. Jaime was home.

Her palms felt inexplicably damp and she folded her hands onto one another, urging her heart to settle down. Any second now, he would knock on the door and she’d have to face him, and she didn’t feel ready, but she could hardly wait at the same time.

Then nothing happened.

He didn’t knock. She half-imagined the sound of a key in the lock, the scrape of the opposite door opening and then closing. 

Brienne stared at her side of the door, more than mildly dumbfounded by its undisturbed state. Tiger padded up beside her and sat partly on her foot. She looked down to see him look up and she admitted, “I don’t know, either.”

Experience, life, fear - all of it told her to wait. Wait a little longer and Jaime would come her way, as he always did. She could count on that. 

Soon. He’d be there soon. All she had to do was wait. 

Brienne looked down at Tiger again. His tongue lolled out, oblivious and happy as could be. He would wait the whole damn day long, certain in the truth that Jaime always took the necessary steps forward, be they rushed, misinformed or overzealous. He’d managed to drag her along, too, sometimes kicking and screaming. He’d likely do it again before long; it was who Jaime was through and through. 

“Fuck that,” Brienne whispered. The kid kicked her only once, a succinct _yeah_. 

She opened the door and went to him.

###### 

_“I hate that guy so fucking much.” Renly flipped over onto his back after Brienne dropped him onto the bed, shuffling along until he could snuggle into the pillows. “So much, Brienne.”_

_Brienne tugged off his shoes, not bothering to hide her laugh. “You’ve said that many, many times, but you never actually say why.”_

_“I’m Jaime Lannister, I’m so fucking perfect. Let me get this cute little dog so people can think I might actually have a soul,” Renly said mockingly as he struggled with his clothes. “I can have whoever I want but I’m soooo above all of you. Brienne, why can’t I get these fucking pants off?”_

_“You still have your belt on and, no, I’m not helping you with that,” Brienne told him firmly._

_“Rude!” Renly gave up and crawled under the covers. “Jokes on him, though.”_

_“Yes, being perfect and gorgeous must be such a trial.”_

_He popped up from where he’d been laying, his expression highly offended. “UGH, not you, too. Please, Brienne, don’t give in. All that pretty has to hide so much evil. It’s a godsdamn law or it- it’s gotta be.”_

_“If you say so,” Brienne agreed, mostly to get him settled down again. “Go to sleep, I’ll let Loras know we’re back.”_

_“Maybe I know what he wants. Maybe I figured it out,” Renly said airily. “The way he stares and tries to get me to say hi, have you met” - he blew a noisy, overly wet raspberry - “that’s not happening. Not on my watch.”_

_Brienne shook her head, completely lost. What the hell did Loras want and why was Renly so against it?_

_“Not good enough,” Renly started mumbling, drooling into his pillow. “Not for my, not for you-”_

_“For gods sake, Renly, you are not allowed to drink this much **ever** again.”_

_He made another psshhht noise. “Please, I only had like… like…”_

_“Like too many. Go to sleep, Ren.”_

_“Only if you swear.”_

_Brienne sighed, suddenly exhausted, but she humored him. “Swear what?”_

_“That you’re too smart fo-for that bullshit.”_

_“I’m way too smart for any bullshit,” Brienne promised solemnly._

_“That’s all I ask,” Renly announced and finally fell asleep._


End file.
